His eyes lifted.
Gray.
Clear.
Terrified.
Clara had seen confident men pretend gentleness.
She had never seen a gentle man pretending confidence.
“It’s late,” Ethan said.
“I can sleep on floor.”
She stared.
“You’re six feet four.”
“Six five.”
“That makes it worse.”
“Floor’s long enough.”
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“Do you want me?”
His breath stopped.
Clara did not know why she asked.
Perhaps because after years of fearing what men wanted, she suddenly found herself frightened by not knowing.
Ethan opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Clara moved closer.
His hands curled at his sides.
She lowered her voice.
“Can you make me tremble tonight, Ethan?”
His head jerked upward.
Color vanished from his face.
Clara nearly smiled until she saw the panic.
Not shyness.
Panic.
Ethan backed away until his shoulder touched the wall.
“I…”
She waited.
“I don’t know.”
Clara frowned.
“Don’t know what?”
“Any of it.”
The storm hammered the roof.
Ethan looked toward the floor.
“I’ve never been married.”
“I know.”
“I’ve never…”
He stopped.
Clara understood before he finished.
Her expression softened.
“Never what?”
His voice dropped to nearly a whisper.
“Kissed anyone.”
Clara blinked.
The man could split winter firewood with a single swing.
Could apparently hunt elk alone.
Had survived thirteen Montana winters in a cabin at the edge of nowhere.
And he looked ready to climb through the wall because a woman had asked him to kiss her.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
That was not the kindest question.
Ethan’s mouth tightened.
“Never had much opportunity.”
“Women live in Montana.”
“Some.”
“None ever wanted you?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“I didn’t ask.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know what I’d do if one said yes.”
Clara stared.
Something inside her loosened.
Experienced men had taught her terror.
Now an inexperienced man was teaching her something stranger.
Safety.
She stepped closer.
Ethan stayed.
Clara placed her fingers carefully over his scarred knuckles.
He looked down.
“Then stop worrying about what a husband is supposed to know.”
His eyes lifted.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Listen.”
“To what?”
“To me.”
She guided his hand open.
Placed her palm against it.
“If I say stop?”
“I stop.”
No hesitation.
“If I say I’m frightened?”
“I wait.”
“And if I tell you to stay?”
His fingers slowly closed around hers.
“I stay.”
Clara raised her free hand toward his face.
Before her fingers reached his beard, something slammed against the cabin door.
BOOM.
Both dogs exploded upright.
Juniper barked.
Bear snarled.
Ethan moved faster than Clara believed a man his size could move.
One instant he stood in front of her.
The next he had shifted between Clara and the bedroom doorway.
Another impact shook the cabin.
BOOM.
“BLACKWOOD!”
A man shouted through the storm.